Red Hearts From The Store
by Ever Essence
Summary: Feliks Lukasiewicz just won't leave me alone! It's really starting to creep me out... he sends me love letters with words like 'adore', with red hearts he's bought from the store.
1. I'm Feliks

**Title: Red Hearts From The Store**

**Author: Ever Essence**

**Chapter: 1 - I'm Feliks**

**Disclaimer: None of the characters used in this belongs to me, I own only the plot.**

**Enjoy!**

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**This story is inspired by a childrens book, which was read to me by a little girl today. It is about a girl who is in love with this boy, but the object of her affections just wants her to go away. It was an adorable story, and this is my first shot at romance. Wish me luck!**

**And to all those waiting for the Patriotism chapters to come out, keep waiting. They are on their way, I just have to finish and redraft them. But they'll be here soon enough.**

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To say it had been a normal day at school for Toris would be a big, fat, hideous lie. That didn't necessarily mean it had been a bad day. Not at all. In fact, he'd only been hit by Ivan once, so the day had actually gone quite well. But it _had_ been strange. Quite strange, indeed. Just not as strange as the girl- no, he was definitely a guy – who Toris was now sitting next to.

It was in Maths. That was when the bombshell was dropped on him. Their teacher, Miss Whats-Her-Name, was heavily pregnant. Nobody could deny that – considering how much of struggle it was for her to fit behind that little desk of hers. Toris came back to school that Monday to find that she had taken the class' advice and gone on maternity leave. Which left his class open to other teachers to take over.

Only nobody did. For ages the kids waited for someone to come and claim them. Someone to teach them. It was unlike the school to keep a class waiting for a teacher. Usually it was the other way around. After a while, one of the German brothers, Ludwig was his name, decided to arrange some form of order.

"Alright! Stop talking and listen!" He was at the front of the class with his arms folded across his chest and a stern look on his face. Typical Ludwig. "I don't know who is meant to be teaching us, but whoever it is is obviously late. But that doesn't mean we should just mess around and waste this lesson! I will put you guys into a new seating plan, to avoid anybody talking! Then you will all have the rest of the lesson, which is 45 minutes, to complete an exercise from your textbooks. Communication of any kind is forbidden, so don't even try it."

And that was it, really. He arranged us in some strange order that made sense to him, but none to any of us. Then he went to sit in his allocated seat, and glared us into silent working. Toris found himself sat in a little corner at the side of the classroom. Why? He had no idea. It was a cold part of the room, right by the window. But it wasn't unpleasant. Not like last year, when he'd sat next to that strange French boy, Francis. That had been awful!

This time, however, he had been paired with someone he didn't really know. He'd seen him around before. They had several classes together, but even so, Toris just could not remember who he was.

Toris' new neighbour was a slim boy (though Toris first though he was a girl, considering how skinny he was, and the fact he wore a skirt and fancy hair accessories) who had shoulder length blonde hair, and bright green eyes. He had a straight nose, and a sharp chin, and his eyes were outlined with a thick rim of mascara-coated eyelashes that were way too long for a boy. He was short, but then again, so was Toris. The boy was chewing bubblegum, his glossed lips in a little pout as his jaws worked furiously behind them. And then he blew a pink bubble at Toris, and when it burst, he grinned at the Lithuanian boy, and outstretched his hand.

"Hey," he said. His voice was surprisingly masculine. The most masculine part of him, Toris assumed. "I'm Feliks!

This boy turned out to be one of the most annoying people Toris had ever met. He chatted endlessly, and clicked his fingers in Toris' face when he wasn't listening. And he had an irritating habit of saying "like" in every sentence. He spoke like a little girl, with incorrect grammar, and once or twice he added an upwards inflection. As if he'd been asking a question, instead of rambling about his beloved skirts. Toris bit his tongue. He didn't want to offend him, after all. But wasn't Ludwig supposed to be in charge? The younger German was not to be messed him, he meant business, and yet Feliks went on and on, without any regard for Ludwig.

Obviously, the boy was crazy. But Toris knew that already. The guy wore skirts and make-up and just acted like a girl in so many ways. It was slightly scary, in Toris was completely honest. But the boy was human, and had feelings, so Toris said nothing. "It's just Ludwig's plan. When the teacher gets here, it will all be different!" he chanted in his mind. Willing it to be true. It had to be true, it just had to be. He would die if it wasn't. He couldn't take much more of Feliks' constant chatter. He really couldn't.

But when the teacher arrived, apologising profusely for being so late, he was blown away by how hard at work we were, and how we weren't mucking around. He was impressed, most classes took advantage of this kind of thing and did all kinds of things that he would really not like to think about. He could remember his school days... they weren't pretty. So he clapped his hands to get their attention, and then an idea hit him.

Why change the seating plan, when this one worked so well? So he sat at his desk, and unpacked his briefcase, getting settled for the day, and as he did, he informed the teens that this was their new seating plan until their previous teacher could resume her job. For the most part it was a positive response. (Ludwig had been smart, he'd managed to pair most kids up with people they wouldn't chat too much with, but they wouldn't bicker either, thought Toris.)

And with that, he proceeded to watch the class settle down into the silent stupor of the maths lesson.


	2. You're Cute

**Title: Red Hearts From The Store**

**Author: Ever Essence**

**Chapter: 2 - You're Cute.**

**Disclaimer: None of the characters used in this belongs to me, I own only the plot.**

**Enjoy!**

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**A quick thanks to all who commented.**

**totalnarutofangirl85: I imagine them to be 15-16. That's year 10 over here in England. I am not sure what grade that is in America. The schooling system over there is massively different. *sweatdrop***

**LolliDictator: Yes I did. I also wrote it in present tense, then altered that too. That is why it was full of mistakes. *facepalm* I'll try not to make them again! :)  
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Toris huffed angrily. No,_ furiously_. Stupid seating plan. Stupid Ludwig for selecting the stupid seating plan. Stupid new teacher supporting stupid Ludwig's choice of stupid seating plan. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

It had been a full week since that oh-so fateful day in which he met the blonde bombshell that was Feliks. Since then, he had become more and more frustrated, tired and stressed. His friends, Eduard and Ravais, had definitely noticed it. ("_Toris, are you alright?" "Yeah, you look really bad. Are you sleeping well?"_) Actually, everyone had noticed it. Even the sadist Russian teen who liked Toris so much it hurt. Literally.

The teen had grabbed Toris in between Science and History and asked him if he was okay.

"Y-yes, Ivan. I am f-f-fine." The Lithuanian boy had responded, careful not to stutter _too_ much.

"Ah. That is good. Then you will come round mine after school, _da_?" Toris sweatdropped. Ivan's smile was sweet, but his tone was condescending, threatening, _terrifying_. Toris, unable to refuse, merely nodded blankly. And when the Russian boy walked away, the brunette immediately sighed. _This was all Feliks' fault!_

And that was why Toris was angry. Very angry indeed. And Toris rarely got angry. Irritated, yes. But hardly ever angry. It surprised Feliks greatly when the Lithuanian boy stormed into Maths, and sat down at their table with tight fists and a thin pink line for a mouth and furrowed eyebrows. It was very, very odd to see Toris like this. Feliks simply flipped his hair and examined his nails – blood red with white tips – whilst Toris repeatedly hit his head against the desk.

But after a while, hearing the rhythmic "thunk-thunk-thunk" got irritating, and Feliks pouted his glossy lips. "Toris, you'll give yourself a headache doing that. And it'll bruise, which will look totally ugly! And that, like, destroys brain cells, you know."

Toris did stop. But only to throw a scowl at the Polish teen. Who did not notice it. He resumed hitting his head against the desk. "Oh God, Toris, _stop_!" _Oh sure. He notices that_!

But then their dopey teacher entered. And there was no hope in hell that Toris could initiate a verbal war. Not that he would anyway. He was terrible at them. So instead he turned to focus on the teacher who was currently writing some long and horribly complex problem onto the whiteboard. This day was not getting any better. But when Toris looked around, everyone was working. Even Feliks – even though his work was messy, and not much thought was being put into it. Toris sighed, again, and picked up his pencil.

Toris was not bad at maths. He was actually quite good at it. He had Estonia to thank for that – the computer geek had been keen to tutor his friend, and now as a result, Toris was rather good with numbers. And yet, he could not figure the answer out. Why? Because that damn Pole would not stop humming. It was driving poor Toris insane. The brunette bit his bottom lip.

It was not even that complex an equation. Toris would normally be able to complete it with ease. But _no_. Because Feliks would not shut up. And the more he pondered over how one boy, albeit a questionable one, could be so annoying, the more distracted he got. And soon, the work was completely forgotton.

"Hey, Toris, quit staring."

He spluttered, blushed and dropped his pencil at that. But, the oblivious teacher was... well, oblivious, and Toris thanked God, Jesus, Mary and who-ever else was up there that he had gotten away with that. It would have been extremely embarrassing to have to explain why he'd suddenly turned scarlet.

"I was _not_ staring!"

"Oh, Toris, you're, like, so cute!" Facepalm.

Toris watched at the blonde gir- boy. Boy, boy, _boy_. Feliks was a _he_. He watched as... Feliks gushed, and flipped his hair. The blonde's jaw working furiously on the piece of gum in his mouth. He was partially distracted by the the pink glitter on Feliks eyelids, and also by the way his glossy lips seems to reflect every sourse of light in the room. How much gloss did he put on? And his red-and-white nails were drumming gently on the table, and Toris was shocked at the long, slender fingers. Yes, Feliks was the _epitome _of_ masculinity_.

And then Toris actually figured out that the Pole had called him cute.

"I... I am not cute!"

"Toris, you _so_ are!"

"I... I'm not... shut up!"

"Whatever you say, Toris!" Feliks giggled, a _totally manly smirk _on his face. And by totally manly, Toris meant _so-feminine-it-should-be-illegal_.

Toris just bit his lip, as the bubbly blonde returned to his work, jumping slightly when the his knee accidently brushed the side of the Polish boys thigh. Key word: accidently. Not on purpose. Right? But Feliks either did not mind, or did not notice, for he didn't move at all.

At least it was quiet again. Toris picked up his pencil, and turned to stare at the paper infront of him. Then... Feliks started humming again. Toris groaned, and suppressed the urge to smack the Pole upside the head. He stuffed hid face into his hands, only to jab himself in the eye with a pencil. All the while cursing about "damn Pole, so annoying, all the damn time'.

And from the corner of his eye, he could_ swear _he saw Feliks smile at this.


	3. DEAR READERS

**Hey Guys!**

**Thank you so much for reading this story, it means a lot to me. :3**

**I'm going to be rewriting this, so please look out for it. 3**

**Thank you. Jessica.**


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